A/N – The next installment, please enjoy.
Chapter Seven – Skiving Snackboxes
That Wednesday afternoon, Hermione sat in the library completing her Transfiguration homework. Harry and Ron were in the Divination section attempting to find information that Hermione couldn't supply them with. When they returned, both were muttering irritably about all the homework they had to complete before they could go to bed.
"If you'd done it yesterday instead of play Quidditch, you wouldn't have this problem." Hermione told them in her best I-told-you-so voice.
Ron rolled his eyes. "You don't understand Hermione. Just because you don't have any interests aside from studying, doesn't mean everyone else has to be deprived of a life."
"I have a life." She snapped. Harry sighed, resigning himself to a bout of their bickering.
Ron scoffed, "Oh yeah, I forgot. You think an extra-curricular activity such as knitting House elves woolly bladders counts as a life."
Hermione swelled with indignation. "Woolen hats are a damn lot better than some things House elves wear. At least I'm doing something worthwhile with my free time. As if Quidditch will get you anywhere."
"Hermione." Harry butted in, feeling this jest was directed at him too, not just Ron. "Quidditch is just as beneficial as knitting. So will you please just get off our backs about it?"
She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it, and closed it again. Ron looked slightly smug, so Hermione elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Ow! Hermione!"
Suddenly, the three became aware of Madam Pince towering over them. "You." She pointed a finger at Ron, who she had heard due to his loud exclamation. "Out. Now."
Ron sent an angry look at Hermione, packed up his books huffily and stomped out of the library. Harry turned to Hermione with a frown. "Now look what you've done. As if he can do any work without these books."
"So borrow them and take them to him." Hermione suggested snidely. Harry shook his head with a sigh, and gathered the relevant books for their Divination homework.
"See you at dinner, Hermione." He said softly, in an attempt to part on better terms than Ron did.
"Yeah, sure." She replied with difficulty. "See you then Harry."
He left, leaving Hermione feeling guilty about her spat with Ron and her rudeness towards Harry. Although their bickering wasn't uncommon, she usually felt bad about it once Ron was out of sight. She had a terrible temper when pushed, and she found that her recent dealings with Malfoy had her constantly on edge. Hermione made a decision. She would no longer let Malfoy get to her. Responding to his immaturity was just what he wanted. From now on, Hermione would remain calm. At least, she hoped to.
Now that all was silent around Hermione, she was easily able to hear whispers from the Herbology section. Ignoring them at first, Hermione continued her scribbling, but soon she began to recognize the voices and thought eavesdropping may prove valuable. It was Padma Patil speaking in a quiet voice to someone who Hermione believed was Luna Lovegood.
"…if that's alright with you." Padma was saying in hushed tones. "I mean, Friday night might not suit everyone, but if it's at ten o'clock, any other engagements should be finished."
"Friday is my favorite day of the week." Luna replied.
"Ok." Padma said calmly, obviously used to dealing with Luna's strange mannerisms. "But will you be able to make it?"
"Mmm." Was Luna's reply. Padma apparently took this as an affirmative.
"Good. Flitwick has given us permission to use his classroom, so we'll meet in Charms classroom number three. See you." Padma whispered, and walked off. Hermione smiled to herself, and hoped desperately that Taylor and Mark would be unable to find out the meeting time or place. She'd show the Scales that she wasn't to be mistaken for a useless Gryffindor.
Hermione lay in the common room, on one of her favorite cushy couches, pretending to be asleep. She had noticed a pattern in Harry and Ron's disappearances, and figured them to have meetings with their secret Quidditch society on Thursday nights.
They sat in the chairs next to her, scribbling furiously at their Charms assignments. Hermione waited another half hour, getting more impatient as the time slipped away; she could be using this time for homework. Instead, she needed to give Harry and Ron no reason to skip their meeting, so she feigned sleep so they would leave under the impression that she'd wake up and think they'd gone to bed.
Eventually, at half past eight, Hermione felt Harry and Ron quietly stand and pack their books away. Instead of walking up to the boys dormitories, Hermione heard the portrait hole open and knew they had just left.
Sitting up and stretching, mainly for the show of the others in the common room, Hermione ensured her best friends had indeed left. When she saw no sign of them, Hermione walked as inconspicuously as she could up the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories. Entering Harry's dorm, Hermione moved quickly over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Shuffling through it, she soon came across his Invisibility Cloak. She closed the trunk, draped the Cloak over herself, and made her way down the stairs, then quickly heading up into her own dorm to hide away the cloak.
When it was safely stashed in her own trunk, Hermione walked back down to the common room and began the potions homework Snape had set the class that afternoon.
"Listen up, seventh years!" Flitwick said brightly from his place on the large pile of books behind his desk on Friday morning. "There are a few precautions I need to warn you about before we begin work on our next topic, Illusion Charms. And don't forget, I will be collecting your homework at the end of class…" Draco's attention was lost immediately.
He sat staring at the blackboard in a bored stupor, waiting until he'd actually be able to use the Illusion Charm. He was sure most students in the class were experiencing the same longing to leave that he was, but his spirits lifted slightly when he thought that it must mean they too were unhappy. He glanced to the front where Hermione sat next to Potter and Weasel, and sneered as she sat in rapt attention. Then he went back to his glazed state.
However after only a few minutes, there was a disturbance from the front of the room. A few Gryffindor's were gathered around someone who was slumped over their desk. Professor Flitwick paused in mid sentence.
"What is going on over there? Miss Granger?"
Hermione glanced up from the gathering students at the desk next to hers. The look on her face was one of disapproval, but she managed to make herself look half worried. "Um…I believe Ron just fainted."
"Wha- how?" Flitwick asked incredulously.
"I don't know." She said in a voice that made Draco quite sure that she knew full well how Weasley had fainted. "Mustn't have been feeling too well, I guess."
"Oh, well." Flitwick said sounding quite perturbed. "How strange. Mr. Potter, would you please take him to the infirmary?" Potter nodded and draped Weasley's arms around his neck and carried him out. As he passed Draco and his friends, Draco noticed a small victorious smile spread across his face.
Flitwick launched back into his lecture about Illusion Charms. Concentrate. Don't let the image waver. Ignore enemies who act as if they can see you, they are most likely pretending and hoping to scare you into revealing yourself. Blah blah blah. Just as Draco felt his eyelids begin to droop, another commotion erupted from the front of the class. A Gryffindor boy had his hand cupping his nose, and blood clearly stained his sleeve.
"What have you done to yourself, Mr. Thomas?" Flitwick demanded, quite disturbed at his sudden nosebleed.
"I don dow Brofessor. It jus starded." Dean answered with his voice thick, as his nose was blocked from the streaming blood. Flitwick sighed and asked Seamus to escort him to the hospital wing. Again, as they neared the back tables, Draco noted Seamus giving Dean a concealed thumbs-up and Dean winked back at
him. Draco brow creased at the good fortune of the four Gryffindors.
Looking back at Flitwick, Draco raised his hand. The Professor turned to him, half expecting Draco to give him a problem that would send him out of class. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Excuse me, but have you noticed that four Gryffindors have now gotten out of class?" He asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "And with the small amount of students in this class, that's nearly half of them."
Flitwick glanced around the room, astonished. "Why, you're absolutely correct, Mr. Malfoy. But I don't think that has any relevance to what I've been talking-"
"No, of course not Professor." Draco said, slipping into his acting role of a respectful student that he sometimes found necessary to use to get other students (generally Gryffindor's) into trouble. "And no offence, but your topic isn't exactly captivating. I do wonder if the Gryffindor's have been purposefully injuring themselves to get them out of class."
Flitwick looked slightly suspiciously at the remaining Gryffindor's. They looked innocently back at him. Professor Flitwick smiled and shook his head. "I don't think so, Mr. Malfoy. It is just a coincidence."
"Are you sure, Professor? Go check the infirmary for yourself after class. I can assure you that Madam Pomfrey will deny ever seeing Weasley or-"
"Shut up, Malfoy!"
Draco turned his head slightly to see Hermione looking at him through narrowed eyes. Draco put a hand to his chest and put on a largely false offended expression. "Did you just tell me to 'shut-up' Granger? That was uncalled for." He smirked. "I'm only stating the facts."
"They're lies. Now shut up so the Professor can talk-"
"Thank you Miss Granger, but I really can speak for my-"
"Be quiet." She told Flitwick absently, turning her full attention to Draco, who was now smiling viciously. Draco's suspicions had just been confirmed by her attempts to cover for her friends. Hermione knew that he could get the Gryffindor's in to a lot of trouble if they were found to have something that could get them out of class. "Malfoy, you'd better stop accusing us of trying to get out of class. We're not stupid enough to hurt ourselves just to escape boredom. No offence Professor, I love your classes-"
"Granger." Draco said, standing up so he could intimidate her. "Stop covering for your friends. I know you disapprove of what they're doing. Just admit it."
"There's nothing to admit, so shut your mouth about it."
"Ooh, getting aggressive. That's a danger sign. Lucky I'm all the way back here, or you might slap me again…"
"I can walk, Malfoy-"
"Congratulations."
"-and I'll make a special little trip, all the way over to you to give you what you deserve, if you don't shut up."
"Surely I deserve something extraordinary-"
"I seriously doubt it."
"-so how about some of those things that are helping you Gryffindor's get out of class?"
"I've already told you, those grievance were random. As if we have anything that would injure us." Hermione said through gritted teeth. The class had been silent throughout their exchange, watching them with a growing interest, and very pleased to have a bit of excitement to break up the dreary lesson. But when a third failure in health occurred in the front corner of the classroom, their attention was removed from the fighting pair.
Draco's eyes however, remained fixedly on Hermione. She closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She slowly looked over at the student who was now vomiting all over their desk. She raised her eyes skywards and shook her head very slightly. Draco smirked. The Gryffindor's definitely had something, but what it was and where they'd gotten it from remained a mystery.
"Mr. Longbottom! This is now getting ridiculous!" Flitwick exclaimed from his place on the pile of books. With a quick spell he cleared up the sick on the table and gave Neville a penetrating look. "Why is it that you are ill, yet when you walked into my class not half an hour ago, you were perfectly fine?"
Neville looked helplessly at Professor Flitwick, then at Hermione. She jumped in, before he could answer. "Actually, he was complaining shortly after breakfast that he was feeling unwell. Maybe it was something in the food."
"No one else seems to be affected, Miss. Granger. And we all ate the same food for breakfast."
"Perhaps he's allergic?" she tried.
"Hmm. Maybe, but I doubt it." Flitwick frowned.
"What? You're not going to start believing that wildly stupid story Malfoy has been saying."
"Hey, I don't talk stupid Granger."
"Really? Well, you could have fooled me-"
"Be quiet, the both of you!" Flitwick interrupted sharply. He turned back to Neville, who was retching weakly. "Miss. Brown, will you kindly escort Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing?"
"Yes Professor." She said, and grabbed Neville by the arm. She slowly walked him out of the classroom and the Slytherin's all exchanged glances. The remaining Gryffindor's tried to look as innocent as possible under the Professor's suspecting gaze.
"Now do you believe me, Professor?" Draco asked casually, sitting himself back down again. Hermione cast an irritated glare over her shoulder at him, but kept quiet. Flitwick faced Draco with raised eyebrows.
"Something is definitely strange in this class, Mr. Malfoy. I don't know if it is only the Gryffindor's though. Slytherin's don't have a clean reputation either. I will speak to the Head Professor's of both your houses and see what they know or have heard. Now, if you will all just remain silent and healthy for me, I need to finish giving you all the details about Illusion Charms."
Draco immediately turned his attention to more important things, like the fly sitting on the bookshelf, the splotches of ink on the desk and the tiny piece of green something stuck in Flitwick's white beard that wobbled dangerously whenever he talked. The class ended soon after and Draco gathered his books and stood up with a large amount of relief.
He followed his friends to the door, but stopped in the hopes of an argument with Hermione. It didn't take long.
"Get out of my way, you pathetic loser." Draco heard Hermione speak flatly from behind him. He turned on the spot in the middle of the doorway and leaned against it casually, checking that she was the only student remaining in the classroom. He stood, blocking her way, eyeing her up and down. Her eyes blazed immediately and she took a threatening step closer to him.
"Do you have control over all your senses?" she asked him coldly.
Not quite sure of where her question was going to lead, Draco answered with a simple "Yes."
"Including your eyesight?" she persisted.
"I think so."
"Than make sure you keep those bloody eyes to yourself."
"I am keeping them to myself." He lied, knowing that his lie would irritate Hermione more than admitting he'd looked her over would.
Hermione raised a finger and pointed in his face. "Don't you ever let me catch you looking me up again, or I will rip your eyes out, mash them up, add starch and sand, mould them into squares and stuff them back in your sockets and see if you like that."
Draco smirked at her, and in an attempt to revolt Hermione out of her senses, reached his hand forward to rest lightly on her waist. Hermione's expression showed the repulsion Draco had wanted, but the anger that succeeded it was unexpected.
WHACK!
Draco pulled his hand off and raised it to the side of his face. "You hit me." He stated in shock, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You touched me." Hermione said, making it clear she believed this was much worse.
Draco let his hand drop, and he straightened his stance menacingly. "So Granger. You Gryffindor's have actually managed to come up with a way to get yourselves out of class. That's quite a secret to have kept to yourself."
"We haven't come up with a way." She answered evasively, ignoring his implication that she should have told the Scales about this.
"I know you have, stop denying it. I'm no fool."
"Are you sure, because-"
"Shut up." Draco leaned towards Hermione and lowered his voice. "We will be discussing this on Monday. If you don't talk, we will find out for ourselves, but mark my words, we will be very unhappy." With that, Draco turned and walked off down the corridor, leaving Hermione glaring after him, seriously wishing looks could kill.
"Hi guys." She greeted Harry and Ron at lunch time, joining them by the fireplace in the common room. "Enjoy your time off classes?" her expression turned disapproving.
"Uh…" Ron looked at her guiltily. "Not really, but we managed to finish our Divination homework. What did we miss?"
"Nothing important. Just things about saving your life with an Illusion Charm. But I suppose as long as you both have your brooms to fly to safety with, you don't need to worry." She turned to Harry. "Did you even take Ron to the hospital wing before you gave him the antidote for the Fainting Fancy?"
"No. Brought him straight to the common room. Why?" Harry said.
"Because that jerk Malfoy is making stuff up about the Gryffindor's using things to get out of classes. I'm sure he's never heard of a Skiving Snackbox before, but he told the Professor to check with Madam Pomfrey if you came by the hospital during that class time. He seems to know your illnesses weren't genuine."
"Oh, bugger." Ron said, his face falling. "Do you think Flitwick will check with Madam Pomfrey?"
"He said he was going to talk to the head of our houses about it. Who knows what they'll say? But I think you guys did overdo it a bit. After you Ron, Dean gave himself a blood nose, and Neville took a puking pastille and vomited all over the table. I think Flitwick agreed with Malfoy that something was suspicious."
"Well, we won't use them for a couple of days then." Ron concluded, as if that would make the teachers forget about it all. Hermione sighed.
"I don't think that'll work. But a better idea would be to not use them at all."
Ron ignored this comment. "At least the sudden rush of needy Gryffindor's, Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's got Fred and George's joke shop some required profit. They were stoked at how much they sold, just to Hogwarts students." Ron told them.
"Good for them." Hermione said curtly, wishing they could come up with something that might assist students in learning, not restrict.
"C'mon Hermione." Harry said, holding out his fist with something concealed in it. "Want to Feign a Fever on Monday in Potions?"
"I wouldn't dare, especially with Snape teaching." Hermione turned him down, frowning slightly.
Harry sighed and put it back in his pocket. He picked up his quill again and tried to concentrate on his Transfiguration homework, while ignoring Hermione's attempts to make him empty his pocket of all Illness Illusions and throw them in the fire.
Heading towards History of Magic later that afternoon, Hermione made sure no one from another house was around then said to Harry and Ron, "The teachers may be on the look out after this morning for students who leave class due to sickness but don't show up in the hospital wing."
Ron rolled his eyes. "We know that Hermione. You've only told us," he counted on his fingers, but found he ran out of them, "What is it, eighteen times now?"
Harry shook his head. "Nope. Twenty three times."
"Well, at least it has sunk in." Hermione concluded. "So make sure you don't use anything from those Skiving Snackboxes, no matter how sleepy Professor Binns makes you get."
"Yes Hermione." They both said in unison.
Half an hour later, most students had either dozed off or were playing hangman while Professor Binns continued his lesson, completely oblivious to his students' boredom, as usual.
Hermione was taking notes, and was just beginning to find the stuffy classroom a bit difficult to bear. She noticed Malfoy occasionally looking around at the Gryffindors, waiting for them to fall unconscious or something similar. At one point, she caught his eye and glared at him. He glared back, and for some reason, Hermione had the distinct feeling he was about to smile. But he didn't; just went back to sleeping with his head on his folded arms.
A/N – Hopefully this chapter wasn't confusing, and yes it does relate to the story on a whole! The next chapter should help you make sense of this one! I love all you guys and girls for reviewing, thank you so much.